


Private Property

by Nigaishin



Series: what goes around... [3]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Crack, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-23
Updated: 2011-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-26 11:52:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/282720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigaishin/pseuds/Nigaishin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally written and posted on LJ in 2005.<br/>Betas: blackangel_life and redleaf0<br/>Again, very theorically set after Couch and Smile.<br/>Response to the dhodges fic challenge #4a on LJ, "[...] type David’s name in the Sloganizer and see what it comes up with. When you find one you like, it must be said somewhere in the fic. [...]".</p>
    </blockquote>





	Private Property

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written and posted on LJ in 2005.  
> Betas: blackangel_life and redleaf0  
> Again, very theorically set after Couch and Smile.  
> Response to the dhodges fic challenge #4a on LJ, "[...] type David’s name in the Sloganizer and see what it comes up with. When you find one you like, it must be said somewhere in the fic. [...]".

  


  


Greg was in the locker room changing when Nick walked in.

He blinked at the sight of his friend standing there in only a towel, mumbling to himself.

"Hey, Greg. What happened?" he asked, rummaging through his locker to get his stuff before leaving.

"Looking for a soda bottle. Ended up in the sewers," he grumbled, sitting down and slipping a new pair of boxers on.

"Oh, yeah, heard about that," Nick nodded and turned to flash a smirk at his friend, but stopped half-way and gaped.

Greg had gotten up and thrown the towel on the bench, and now stood with his back to Nick, retrieving his shirt and jeans from his locker.

He heard his friend choke a bit mid-sentence and then let out a hysterical giggle, and he turned, puzzled.

"What? The sewer thing that funny?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at Nick, who was fumbling to get the door of his own locker shut and trying hard not to laugh.

"What?" Greg repeated, slitting his eyes a bit, not understanding why his friend's face had begun to redden as well.

"Uh... uhm. I was only wondering at your choice of clothes, Greg," Nick managed to get out, finally slamming the door closed, "I know you're quite the-- ah, creative and open guy and we don't mind it at all, but... don't you think those are a little too much?"

Greg frowned, looking from his boxers to Nick's face, confused.

"You think I shouldn't wear boxers...?" he asked, uncertain.

Had Nick gone completely crazy and decided to hit on him in some weird kind of way of his?

His friend blinked, puzzling for a second at the question before catching up to what Greg was trying to imply, and blushed.

"No! No, no, that's not what I meant... geez," he rolled his eyes at him, "I can still resist the old Sanders charm, don't worry. I was only saying that maybe you should check the back."

He looked at Greg's still perplexed expression and snickered.

"Oh well, gotta go. You better put something on before somebody else comes in," he muffled another laughter and quickly left.

Greg stared at the spot where his bestfriend had been standing just a few seconds before and finally shrugged.

"Weird Nicky," he mused, "... maybe there's a hole in the back on my boxers?"

He felt them with his fingers but couldn't find anything, so he opted for one of the mirrors over the sinks.

He took a peek and froze.

Even if the words where written backwards, he could make out the sign just fine.

"I must be dreaming. Hallucinating . There was something in the sewers that got me stoned or whatever. That must be it," he nodded, looked away and then back into the mirror.

It was still there.

"You're taking the whole Narcisus thing to a whole new level, you know," Warrick's amused voice startled him, making him jump and back against the wall quickly, "he only stared at his face."

Greg nodded, creeping towards his locker, mindful of never letting Warrick see his back.

"You think they'd actually tell you if he spent his time looking at his ass? And I guess trying to see your ass mirrored in a pond or river or whatever wouldn't be that easy. Better settle for the face," he babbled, tried to distract his friend from noticing what he was doing.

He grabbed his jeans and hopped into them, bouncing a bit on his feet as he tugged them on quickly.

"Touchè," Warrick still smirked from the doorway.

"Now, as fun as discussing what's easier to look at while looking into a mirror or a pond is," he mumbled into his shirt as he slid it on, "I really have to go."

He bounded down the corridors, taking his phone out of his pocket and punching in David’s number.

"Hodges," an annoyed voice answered.

"Hallo to you too, _Hodges_ ," Greg greeted back, calmly, "it’s me."

“Greg,” his tone lost some of the snarkyness, “is everything ok?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I just felt like calling,” he paused, waiting for some kind of remark that didn’t come, and then started again, “I had a shower earlier. And then I got my clean clothes out of the locker, because my old ones were dirty. A sewer will do that to you."

"How nice. If this was supposed to be some sad attempt at phone sex, I’ll let you know that’s exactly what it is—a sad attempt," David interrupted in a bored voice.

"Shut up and listen me out," Greg replied, still trying to sound calm as ever, "I put on my boxers, and Nick walks in and starts laughing. And then he says something about my boxers, and walks out."

"Enthralling, really."

"Dave," he warned, "so I looked into the mirror to see what was wrong with them."

"Who wouldn't. Can’t I just put the receiver on the table there so you can go on with your list of daily activities and I can go back to sleep?" the voice butted in, hopefully.

"My boxers, Dave," Greg gritted his teeth.

"What about your boxers?" David asked, exasperated, and sighed.

Greg glared, even if he knew his lover couldn’t see him.

"They say _David Hodges Only_ on the back. Just over my ass. _David Hodges Only_. _David Hodges only_ , like in _Authorized Personnel Only_. In red marker."

There was a pause.

A long one.

For a moment, Greg thought the phone might have disconnected.

Then he heard a shaky breath on the other end, followed soon by a strangled laughter.

"Glad to know you find it so funny!" Greg sulked back.

"I was starting to wonder when you were going to notice that," David chuckled, amused, “well, revenge’s sweet, indeed. Now get your _David Hodges Only_ ass home so we can see what to do about that slogan, mh?”

That said, he snickered and hung up, leaving Greg no time to reply.

~fin


End file.
